


The Secret

by ryanglitter



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, secret hopeless love (or is it really)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24301594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryanglitter/pseuds/ryanglitter
Summary: SkekAyuk is about to try on the robes that skekEkt made for him. He is desperately in love and he spends some time thinking about their interaction thus far. Will he manage to not embarrass himself in front of skekEkt? Will their friendship deepen? Stay tuned to find out ♥For Chaifootsteps, a wonderful author and friend, whose fantastic writing opened up a whole new world for me, and without whom this fic would not exist. Seriously if you haven't checked out his work yet, get ready to be amazed!!
Relationships: skekAyuk/skekEkt (Dark Crystal)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chaifootsteps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaifootsteps/gifts).



It was time. It was finally time, and skekAyuk had never been so nervous in his whole life. Not even on the Measuring Day. It was still a mystery to him how he managed to survive that.

The others had most likely forgotten about it all, but not skekAyuk. The memory of the event was always fresh in his mind. Every night, in the privacy of his chambers, he reimagined the cherished moment when the stars made it possible for him to stand so agonizingly close to the most beautiful Skeksis of them all. 

In his daydreams, the two of them were alone. 

In reality, all Skeksis had been summoned to the throne room that day to wait in line for the Ornamentalist to take their measurements. Lift your arms, lift your other arms, every single one of them obeyed skekEkt’s commands without question, including the Emperor himself. He went first, of course, demonstrating the patience and poise that he expected each of them to display. 

SkekAyuk was transfixed as he watched skekEkt’s measuring tape unfurl along the Emperor’s height, the length of his limbs, and then, oh Thra, around his waist! He, who had never once envied their ruler, not for his scepter and his throne, certainly not for his endless responsibilities, suddenly found himself wishing to be in his place. Then he wished himself in the place of the Ritual Master, and of each Skeksis who happened to be in front of him, almost forgetting that his own turn would also come. 

After the Ritual Master’s measurements were done, he led the rest of the Skeksis one by one towards the Ornamentalist, with ample gestures and grand words; he explained that the loss of their feathers was merely a milestone in their eternal journey, and now that they had reached the age of true wisdom, their bodies deserved to be adorned with the most glorious of garments. Even skekLach, who had the patience of a newborn nebrie, was moved by skekZok’s words, and so was skekOk, who had been itching to return to his precious library. 

The Gourmand needed no such incentive. His heart was drumming and his palms were sweaty just thinking about the Ornamentalist being anywhere near him, let alone doing something like this, something that looked, at least to him, so very … intimate. He longed for it, and he feared it too. He feared that he would stutter, or trip, or lift the wrong pair of arms, or otherwise make a complete fool of himself in front of skekEkt – or Thra forbid, what if suddenly all his blood rushed to his cheeks and skekEkt figured out why and found it completely and utterly ridiculous?

SkekAyuk’s turn finally came, sooner that he thought, and it took all his effort to be as still as he could, to focus on anything but the undeniable beauty in front of him. A true professional, the Ornamentalist avoided any and all unnecessary touches, for which the Gourmand was actually quite grateful. Although he yearned for skekEkt’s touch as much as he wished for eternal life, the last thing he wanted were such meaningless, accidental touches, and certainly not when the whole court was watching. 

Speaking of which, as the Ornamentalist wrapped his tape around him, skekAyuk found himself wondering something. Was skekEkt perchance a little nervous himself? Of course he must be, what with the Emperor breathing down his neck, and the Ritual Master announcing the very sanctity of his work to them all. Surely that was the reason for the slight scarlet shade on the Ornamentalist’s cheeks. No, there was no chance on Thra that it had anything to do with him.

In his daydreams, it was only the two of them, no Emperor, no Ritual Master, no crowd of impatient Skeksis who wished nothing more than to get it over with so they could return to their duties. It wasn’t even his first time thinking it. The Measuring Day simply provided a more feasible setting for his fantasy. In his daydreams, the Ornamentalist had eyes only for him. He would wrap his measuring tape around skekAyuk’s middle, then he would gaze up and down and around his ample physique with infinite adoration in his eyes, and…

He had tried so many times, the stars knew that he had tried not to imagine putting his head underneath that lovely chin, small hands caressing his cheeks, his nostrils filled with delightful fragrance… truly he did his best, but as soon as he pictured them together in his mind for the first time, skekAyuk was completely spellbound and he knew he could never go back.

He had been watching the Ornamentalist for quite some time. Brilliant, splendid, enchanting skekEkt, lively and cheerful, never unfriendly, always eager for attention, yet somehow always impossibly far beyond everyone’s reach. 

Most Skeksis believed that skekEkt thought himself too good for them. SkekAyuk was not so sure. Perhaps he simply preferred to be alone. He had turned down every Skeksis who had propositioned him – the Emperor had not, but certainly not because he failed to see the Ornamentalist’s beauty. He only feigned disinterest because he knew that he too would be denied. And if even their distinguished ruler did not dare, why would skekAyuk do any different? Yet he kept longing for skekEkt’s company, and he knew he always would. A fool he was, he often told himself, and a fool he would be for the rest of their eternal lives.

He did like to think of himself as a friend of skekEkt’s, and for that he was grateful. Oftentimes, he joined the Ornamentalist in casual chats with the Scroll-Keeper and the Collector. He cared little for the gossip at first, but in time he discovered that it was indeed an acquired taste, and it was always skekEkt who made said taste so irresistible. He learned how to make skekEkt laugh, he learned to appreciate his humor as well, he learned plenty about his delightful, colorful personality – and yet nothing that he could never imagine skekEkt showing any other Skeksis, nothing that seemed to set the Gourmand apart in his eyes. SkekAyuk decided that if friendship was the most that he could hope for, then by Thra he would cherish it as the gift it truly was.

Come to think of it, though, ever since the Measuring Day, skekAyuk couldn’t help but notice that after the gossip and the giggles skekEkt’s smile would fade and he would stare at nothing. In those moments it seemed to skekAyuk that he could spy evidence of deep, secret thought spinning in circles in that beautiful head. Perhaps the same things that he too pondered but saying them out loud would be more trouble than it’s worth. … Or maybe that was just his imagination. Perhaps he could ask him one day. Yes, definitely one day, certainly not tonight. He had all the time in the world, all of eternity, really. 

No, tonight had to be nothing short of perfect, because a small part of his daydream was actually about to come true. The part where the two of them would be alone. No dining hall full of Skeksis, no Scroll-Keeper and Collector, no Gelfling guards bowing to the four of them on the corridors, no Podlings rushing out of their way, just skekAyuk and skekEkt, alone together for the first time. The Ornamentalist had finally requested that he visit his workshop after dinner to try on the full set of robes which he had completed for him. 

All day skekAyuk had done nothing but try to prepare himself for the shock of the reality that no doubt would soon come to pass. There would be no appreciative glances, no embraces, no caresses. And certainly no hint of scarlet on skekEkt’s lovely cheeks that he had not applied there himself on purpose. SkekAyuk was no Emperor, no Ritual Master, and the last thing he wished was to put any unnecessary pressure on his beloved Ornamentalist.

It would be over quickly, he imagined: he would try on the clothes and they would be perfect, no alterations needed, and skekEkt would accept his gratitude with a quick word, after which he would retire to his chambers with a new recipe for yet another unattainable daydream.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk ♥
> 
> Feel free to read the intro in Sigourney Weaver's voice lol

_True to his talent, the Ornamentalist was the first Skeksis to don any semblance of clothing. Even before his plumage started to grow thin, he had always adorned his graceful form with jewelry, tied ribbons in his hair, polished his beak and his talons. He never did wait for his last feather to fall; he must have understood that they would never regrow even before the Scientist confirmed it. One day, he secluded himself in his workshop, and refused to come out until he finished his greatest creation thus far: a robe, a prototype for many exquisite designs that would soon follow. He was not seen without it ever since. The Emperor was very pleased, and he ordered the Ornamentalist to clothe them all, which he was more than delighted to do._

_SkekEkt started by making simple robes for each of his fellow Skeksis to wear. Then he began to add layer upon layer to his own outfit first, for practice. Then the Emperor’s. Then the Ritual Master’s, and then, one by one, he developed rich, elaborate outfits for each of the remaining Skeksis. In time they would all be covered from beak to tail in silks and jewels, ruffles and lace, embroidery and beads. And now…_

It was finally the Gourmand’s turn to receive his own completed set of robes.

SkekAyuk had taken special care to pay a lengthy visit to the baths first, after which he put on his freshly washed robe and his apron, applied a sweet-smelling fragrance, and combed his hair with his talons. It wasn’t exactly what anyone would call a ‘date’, it was more of an appointment, but still, the last thing he wished was to be anywhere near the Ornamentalist with his hands smelling of allium and his robe stained with sauce. 

And so, he stood there waiting by the door to skekEkt’s workshop, heart pounding, and with a trembling hand he knocked.

“Do come in!” he heard the Ornamentalist say.

As soon as he did, his eyes were completely captivated by the lavish décor in the room. SkekEkt’s workshop was lit with many scented candles that danced joyfully, catching his eye in every corner. The walls were lined with shelves full of stacks of folded fabric, organized in harmonious gradients of dark to light, and all kinds of boxes of various shapes and sizes. Tassels and ribbons and flowers and little trinkets here and there added detail and sparkle. Everything was pale wood, smooth taupe, dusky blue, fruity pink, lustrous pearl. 

Suddenly, in a corner he saw something that almost made his heart stop. Not since the split had he set eyes upon anything so unsettling. He clutched his clasped hands to his heart as he looked at what he soon figured out was – phew! – merely some kind of life-size sculpture of a Skeksis wearing one of the Ornamentalist’s outfits. And it was headless. 

“Gourmand, welcome!” the real skekEkt said, making skekAyuk turn his head in a split second, and he couldn’t help sighing with relief when he saw him.

“Ah, ah yes… Ornamentalist! Yes, delighted to be here. Quite so, quite so!”

SkekEkt was smiling, radiant as ever, his beautiful head exactly where it belonged, thank Thra, and if he had noticed skekAyuk’s reaction, he was choosing to ignore it. Quite atypical of him, the Gourmand thought, but he was certainly grateful, for everyone knew that skekEkt rarely missed an opportunity to laugh at embarrassing things that happened to others. Perhaps he was too distracted by his newest creation to care, and speaking of which, the Ornamentalist was sitting on a massive sofa for two, and on the seat next to him he had placed … oh Thra, was that it? Was that… for him?

“Well? What do you think?” the Ornamentalist said, and smiled as he ran a gloved hand over the fabric.

The Gourmand was pinned to the spot. Truly flawless it was: an opulent set of robes of warm browns, greens, and golds, and oh Thra, the ruff! All those carefully folded iridescent ribbons, all that unimaginably hard work… for him? Just for him? … Of course, you fool, he told himself. That was the Emperor’s order indeed: unique sets of robes for every Lord of the Crystal, and that was all that skekAyuk was to him, no more, no less. Surely skekEkt greeted them all the same way, sitting next to his completed work and … caressing it, which certainly meant only that he was proud of his art, as he certainly should be. 

And then he realized that skekEkt was eyeing him quizzically, because … he had said nothing. What exactly had skekEkt asked? Oh! Right! He wanted to know if he liked it, of course, and he shouldn’t have had to ask. SkekAyuk should have brought it up himself, damn it. He cleared his throat.

“Ah… ah… if, if I didn’t know better judging by the size, I could swear you made it for our esteemed Emperor!” 

SkekEkt lifted his brows, eyes wide, and for a moment skekAyuk wished he had continued to say nothing, but instead something possessed him to keep running his beak. He stepped closer – to appreciate the details from a shorter distance, of course. Of course.

“I mean… it’s… it’s…” he gestured helplessly with his outstretched fingers, struggling to keep his tail still. “It’s… marvelous! A true masterpiece – which is not to say that your other creations are anything but! I merely wish to say… it’s so beautiful that it would certainly be worthy of the noblest and most majestic of us. And I adore… everything about it. Very much.”

The Ornamentalist blinked at him most mysteriously, and then he suddenly got up and giggled, picking up the outfit and spinning in place with it, after which he placed it gently in skekAyuk’s arms.

“Ohhh!!! That is wonderful to hear! Never mind the Emperor. I made this for you! Go on then, if you like it, try it on, let us see how it looks!” 

SkekAyuk was directed towards a heavy, richly embroidered pink curtain that to his surprise did not conceal a window, but a separate little room with a tall triple mirror, an elegant chair, and hooks on the walls. He counted the separate layers of his new outfit as he laid them all over the chair’s backrest.

“It’s a full set, complete with an under-robe”, skekEkt said, and pulled the curtain for skekAyuk as soon as he went in. “Remove everything you’re wearing and start with the simplest layer. The one with the most details evidently goes on last.”

The simplest layer, yes, simplest… and suddenly he froze. Remove everything. SkekEkt wished him to be naked – only so he could pile up even more layers of clothes on his body, of course, but… oh Thra, he had told him to disrobe! His cheeks began to burn as he untied his apron with fumbling fingers and pulled his robe over his head. The Gourmand simply stood there for a few moments, naked as the day when he and the other one became themselves, with goosebumps all over. His last patches of feathers still clung to his shoulders and neck, but otherwise his body was perfectly bare, and there was only a curtain between his nakedness and the one and only Ornamentalist. 

He tried his best to dress himself swiftly enough as to not make skekEkt wait, but carefully enough to avoid damaging the precious garments. The weight of the protective cover on his back was unusual to him, the movement of his tail felt restricted under all those layers, and the ruff would certainly need time to get used to, but none of it mattered. In his mind skekAyuk was already imagining how he would take his sweet time to admire each and every detail as soon as he returned to his room, running his fingertips over them just like skekEkt had. Every fabric, every bead, every color, selected especially for him. All throughout the making of each layer, skekEkt’s mind was focused on him … which, of course, he reminded himself, was just as true for every other Skeksis! Oh, what a fool he was, oh Thra! He closed his eyes and put his arms around himself, around his new garments, made with unmatched patience and skill by the loveliest, most tireless hands. 

“Well? Is everything alright, Gourmand?” skekEkt asked from the other side of the curtain. “Do you need assistance? Or is it perhaps… not to your taste after all?”

Oh stars, he had taken too long after all! Curses! Curses! He quickly took a last look at his reflection and then he pulled the curtain back. 

“Ornamentalist”, he managed. “It’s… on the contrary, it’s perfect, absolutely perfect! It fits most comfortably, the fabric is pleasant to the touch, and the colors, and the details… superb, all of it is just superb!”

SkekEkt seemed to be at a loss for words, his cheeks were even turning scarlet again, and now skekAyuk could barely look at him. He had made him wait too much, and now his praises sounded unconvincing. This was not how tonight was supposed to go, it wasn’t—

“Gourmand!” 

SkekAyuk lifted his head immediately, as if the Emperor himself had called him, and the least thing he expected to see was the gorgeous smile on skekEkt’s face.

“Oh! Oh! It really is perfect, as I knew it would be! It looks splendid on you! Turn around for me, let me see everything!”

The Ornamentalist clapped his hands and made the most surprising, most delightful little sounds as he watched him turn, and just like that, skekAyuk was suddenly over the moons now. Splendid… perfect… splendid… 

SkekEkt reached out to adjust a ruffle here, a fold there, smiling; he seemed unable to stop touching the garments, and skekAyuk could only assume that a part of him was secretly reluctant to part with his creation. He found himself wondering: did skekEkt do this with all of the Skeksis? Were they patient, like he was, or did they try to rush him, those ingrates? As far as skekAyuk was concerned, skekEkt could continue to adjust his clothes as much as he wished. The longer he could stay in his company, the happier he would be, and if he didn’t even have to look for a pretext himself, even better. 

“I’m pleased”, skekEkt finally said, and stepped back, playing with his pearl necklace. “It was a true delight to make!”

Oh, what should he say, what should he say?!

“T-thank you, Ornamentalist! It’s… it’s… glorious! Yes!” 

“You’re most welcome, Gourmand!”

They watched each other for a few moments. That was it, then. It took slightly longer than skekAyuk had anticipated, but still… 

“I … should take my leave now”, he began, and skekEkt followed him as he went towards the door. 

“Gourmand? Wait”, skekEkt said, and reached out to pick up a fallen feather from his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥
> 
> Can't wait to finish the third and final chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will skekEkt be brave enough to confess his secret? Let's find out ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots and lots of headcanon stuff ♥

SkekAyuk watched as the Ornamentalist took his fallen feather and examined it, twisting it gently between his elegant fingers. Suddenly the air felt so much warmer, and he suppressed the need to tug his ruff away from his neck. 

SkekEkt put the feather on his work table. When he turned around again, skekAyuk could not believe his eyes: what on Thra had happened to his joyful mood? Mere moments ago he seemed so elated, and now his lovely face seemed to be clouded by … severe melancholia, as the Scientist would have called it, if memory served him right. 

What could have possibly upset him so? Was it the feather? Surely the Gourmand hadn’t done anything wrong? No, it couldn’t be – if someone were to offend skekEkt, by all the stars in the universe, he would let them know. At the top of his lungs. SkekAyuk wished he had realized this sooner. It would have saved him quite a bit of needless worrying. Nevertheless, it was quite disquieting; come to think of it, he had never even seen skekEkt look so dejected before. If skekAyuk had done something to ruin his mood after all, he was more than eager to try to make up for it however he could, and if he had not, he certainly still wished to cheer him up all the same. 

Eventually skekEkt cleared his throat, and despite his pressing concerns, skekAyuk couldn’t help but notice how adorably high-pitched it was. Leave it to the Ornamentalist to make the most common of things so lovable!

“I… have none left”, skekEkt said, and crossed his arms.

None… no more feathers. Oh. … Oh Thra, this was new! Why would he, of all Skeksis, wish to speak of something like this? No one had seen skekEkt without his wonderous garments in many, many trine. He had even ordered a bathtub for his bedchamber and refused to join the other Skeksis in the baths ever since. Surely he thought it a private matter… and yet he wished to discuss it now? With him? Was it too presumptuous to assume, too daring to hope… that he had told no one else?

“I, I… don’t have very many left myself…” was all he could think of to say. 

“And? How does it feel?”

The Gourmand blinked helplessly. 

“Well… sometimes I feel… cold? But that will no longer be a problem, now that we all have such exquisite many-layered outfits to wear! And such soft and wonderful blankets you made for us, too!”

SkekEkt offered him a quick, slight smile, very much unlike his typical temperament, which only seemed to come in extremes. If compliments did not cheer him up, skekAyuk could think of nothing that would. 

“And you, Ornamentalist? How do you feel?”

SkekEkt opened his beak a few times, watching him with wide, alert eyes. 

“Old!” he suddenly shouted, and then he covered his beak and shut his eyes; when he opened them, they were glistening with tears. “We are getting old, Gourmand!” he continued, in a more hushed voice, clasping his pendant. “Oh, we’ll be eternal, yes… eternally wrinkly, and saggy, and, and, and… ill, and too exhausted to do anything but sleep, like, like a bunch of old Podlings at the end of their pathetic little lives! And we’ll be like that forever! And, and, and… if-if that is the case, then I… I…” His voice shrank, thinner than the most delicate thread, knotting itself up as he spoke – and while skekAyuk could barely understand his words, he somehow … knew, because he was thinking it too. “I think I, I think I no longer wish to, to, to!!!” To be immortal, skekAyuk thought.

Faced with the reality of what he had just confessed, skekEkt gasped and for a moment he seemed completely petrified, much like the statue that had made skekAyuk’s heart jump earlier.

The Gourmand stood perfectly still, holding his breath, and the silence was so dense that he could cut it with a knife and serve it to a whole dining hall of hungry Skeksis. And silence was all that he would serve. It was the most shocking, most frightening thing that he had ever heard anyone say, and if any of the other Skeksis found out, Thra only knew what the Emperor would decide to do to his poor, poor skekEkt! His heart was breaking just thinking about it! 

“Ornamentalist, I… I agree with you.” 

“You… you do?” 

“I… yes. I… I’ve been wondering myself.” He struggled to speak as softly as he could, lest anyone listen at the door; skekEkt leaned in closer to hear him better. “I’ve… I’ve been thinking. The Scientist, the Ritual Master, the Emperor, they all said that the loss of our feathers is not an ailment, but how… how do we even know that?”

“… Yes!!! Exactly! Oh, I knew I could tell you, Gourmand! I mean, wait, what do you mean? Oh, tell me more, please tell me more!” With no warning, skekEkt reached out, and skekAyuk gladly gave him his hands and let him drag him to the sofa.

“I mean”, skekAyuk resumed as they sat, and for some reason, skekEkt seemed to forget to let go of his hands. “I mean… you know what I do in the kitchens. The Scientist used to come and watch, and that’s how he learned much of what he knows about the bodies of creatures. We can study them, we can see what they’re made of, and we can observe how they change from birth to death – and how to make them taste particularly delicious!” He allowed himself a chuckle, and to his surprise, skekEkt giggled too. “But, you see… they’re all the same, every creature on this world is essentially the same as all the others.”

“Except for us”, skekEkt finished. 

“Yes. We’re not of Thra. We weren’t born like other creatures are. We’re the first and only Skeksis. We, we, we don’t know what will happen to us if we die, and we don’t even know what will happen to us while we live! The only other creatures to which we can compare ourselves know just as little, perhaps even less. What do they care! They just lie around waiting for eternity to end. It’s like you said, Ornamentalist: we’ll be immortal, but what if immortality cannot save us from illness…”

“Or wrinkles!”

“All we have is what we built from scratch: our laws, our culture, our style…”

“Our cuisine!”

“Our very existence is a miracle!”

“We were never supposed to happen! Oh, skekAyuk!”

SkekEkt gazed deeply into his eyes, and for a moment, nothing else in the universe existed but their secret and their hands holding on to each other for dear life. To think that earlier his outfit sat there next to skekEkt, without him, and he had not even dared to imagine himself in its place… and now here he was! 

“I’m glad we happened”, skekAyuk said. “Do you remember how we used to look? We, and the others, as one?”

The Ornamentalist made what he probably thought was a nasty grimace, but he would always look incredibly lovely in the Gourmand’s eyes. SkekAyuk was certain that he would never see skekEkt otherwise, not even in the grim, wrinkly, saggy future that he was dreading.

“Ugh! Disgusting! We all looked the same! Bright and shiny, maybe, but what about variety? What about uniqueness?!” SkekEkt sighed. “So what do we do now? Our feathers are gone, what’s next? Our hair? Our claws? What is going to happen to us? What can we do?”

SkekAyuk sighed too.

“Well… we’re Skeksis. We might not know everything, but we’re good at finding solutions. We were confused, so the Emperor guided us. We had nothing to cook, so the Hunter caught food for us. We had no stories of our own, so the Scroll-Keeper wrote some. We lost our feathers, so you replaced them with marvelous garments the like of which no one has ever seen.” This time, skekEkt tilted his head and smiled, fluttering his lashes. “Should anything unfortunate happen to us, hopefully hundreds of trine will pass until then, thousands, hundreds of thousands, and we’ll be much, much wiser and we will know what to do.”

He believed it, didn’t he? With skekEkt’s hands in his… he did. 

“Funny that you should mention the Emperor”, skekEkt said after he pondered a little. “How thoughtful of him to keep us all so comforted, don’t you think, to tell us that all of this is to be expected and celebrated, to bear the burden of our uncertain fate on his shoulders, all by himself, leaving the rest of us such ample time to indulge in what we all do best!”

SkekAyuk had to chuckle. 

“Thoughtful is the perfect word, I do concur!” He winked, and skekEkt smiled.

“I do believe you’re right, Gourmand. There is no reason to dwell on such dreadful thoughts now.” He paused. “Do you think that the other Skeksis wonder about such things?”

“If they do, they never mention it to me. What about… what about the Scroll-Keeper, does he have no thoughts on this matter?”

“SkekOk?! SkekOk is in the middle of rewriting the accounts of our arrival to Thra and removing any mention of our feathers, on the Emperor’s orders. No, he won’t speak of this except to praise our leader’s infinite wisdom.”

“Rewriting it? Whatever for?”

“For Gelfling. The memory of our beautiful feathers will die with the last Gelfling who remembers. Something tells me that we are being encouraged to forget about them too. I … must confess I miss them. Oh, why couldn’t we have both feathers and clothing? Why must we suffer so?” 

Although skekEkt spoke of suffering, he did punctuate his question with a pout, which went right to skekAyuk’s heart. 

“I must confess something too”, he suddenly said, and immediately regretted it.

“Oh?”

For a moment, skekAyuk contemplated the idea of telling him the whole truth. _I love you, skekEkt, and I always will, no matter how many wrinkles you collect on your eternal journey._ His very heart was trembling, and he felt that he could sooner tell the Emperor to his face that he knew nothing and he was merely paving the road as he walked.

“Your headless statue”, he eventually said. “It gave me such a dreadful fright!” 

SkekEkt laughed, and it sounded like sunshine. Only then did he let go of skekAyuk’s hands, so he could wrap his arms around him tightly instead. The Gourmand closed his eyes as he gladly held him in return, hoping that his embrace could say what his voice could not.

“I know”, skekEkt said. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!!!! It's done!!!!
> 
> This chapter took a lot of effort to write and it's about one of my favorite things about Skeksis, which is how unique they are compared to every other creature on Thra. Their very nature makes them strange, and lonely. Skeksis only have each other, even if they might treat one another all kinds of ways. And maybe, maybe, some of them can have some mutual trust and love. As a treat. 
> 
> Many thanks to Chaifootsteps in general and for the awesome idea of Mal bringing them food he hunted when they were young, which is from his fic "How to Rise, Rise, Rise, and Never Fall". 
> 
> Thank so much for reading ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ♥♥♥


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